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Jing Jiu’s mood, like his true nature, was hard to discern.


He usually didn’t display any emotion on his face, nor did he have any hobbies, save for playing the sand in the ceramic plate once in a while, which didn’t mean anything.


Yet, Zhao Layue knew that he was in a bad mood. Being able to tell what his mood was was her talent, and also something she had learned after living with him for so long.


They had a hotpot dinner on New Year’s Eve. Afterwards, Zhu ...

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